


Michelle's Marvellous Mixup

by Sitcom_Fan



Category: Derry Girls (TV)
Genre: But please consider reading even if you're not a Jerin fan, Gen, Post-High School, Some hints of Erin fancying James, general silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:40:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27253570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sitcom_Fan/pseuds/Sitcom_Fan
Summary: The Derry Girls have finished school and Michelle hears about a festival where several of the gang's favourite bands are playing. What could possibly go wrong?
Comments: 41
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short multi-chapter fic for you lovely people :)

The door knocked at the Quinn household one morning and Erin opened it to find an excited Michelle, smiling broadly, followed by James and Clare. “Erin, get Orla. We’ve got some news!” Michelle squealed with excitement. Erin was bemused by Michelle’s sunny temperament and so were James and Clare, judging by the looks on their faces.

“Oh, ok, well come in then,” Erin said tentatively, then led her friends upstairs to her room, along with Orla, who was watching TV in the living room. They sat down on Erin’s bed.

“So what’s the craic?” Orla asked.

“THere’s a music festival! And Robbie’s playing!” Michelle blurted out. “And the Spice Girls! I know James wants to ride Baby but I thought he’d be more into Posh.”

“How many times, Michelle?” James protested, “I just respect them as singer-songwriters but I will acknowledge Baby is very pretty.”

“See, he wants to get in her knickers! Fuckin’ disgustin’ perv!” Michelle scowled.

“Where is this festival?” Clare asked.

“Newcastle,” Michelle replied.

“We can’t go to Newcastle! Catholics go to Bundoran!” Orla piped up.

“Yes, but there’s no festival in feckin’ Bundoran!” Michelle snapped.

“I don’t want to be a craic killer but it’s definitely in Newcastle, County Down?” Clare asked sceptically.

“Of course! Where else would it be?” Michelle lashed out.

Clare swallowed and exchanged a worried look with James. “Ok, well then let’s go down a day or two before and make a trip of it,” Clare suggested.

“Sounds cracker,” Orla replied. James nodded in agreement.

“You happy to book it, Michelle?” Erin asked.

“Of course,” Michelle replied confidently.


	2. Chapter 2

“Now the clutch is a bit stiff but you’ll get used to it,” Gerry said to James.

“It is a bit!” James chuckled as he depressed his left foot. James drove off for a short distance to get used to Gerry’s car. “I appreciate you letting me drive, Mr Quinn.”

“No bother, you’re the most sensible driver by far! Just watch out for Erin and she has a tendency to speed. She once hit eighty going down the Glenshane Pass and I feared for my life!” Gerry responded. “God help us if she inherits her driving habits from Joe because he’s been suspended again!”

When James and Gerry returned to the Quinn household, the girls were getting ready to set off. “Listen, wee uns-” Mary began.

“Mammy, we’re not wee uns anymore, we’re eighteen!” Erin protested, regretting it instantly when her mother silenced her with a cold stare.

“There are lots of Protestants in Newcastle at this time of year and you know what Protestant lads are like!” Mary warned.

“Stay away from the Prods!” Joe bellowed, “I don’t want anyone coming back insisting we put our toaster in the cupboard! Or becoming fans of the Royal Family.”

“Aye, that would be really inefficient,” Orla mumbled absent-mindedly.

“Sure, that Princess Diana’s in grave danger hanging out with that Dodi al-Fayed fella. Nothing good will come of it, I swear. My tarot cards say as such,” Sarah added, on the same wavelength as Orla as always.

“I knew it was a mistake to buy her that copy of OK magazine!” Gerry said to Mary.

“Aye, Gerry, Derry gossip gets boring after a while, so it does. I need other forms of entertainment,” Sarah said indignantly.

“Don’t you tell my daughter what not to read, boyo!” Joe snapped.

“Give me strength,” Gerry muttered under his breath.


	3. Chapter 3

The five eighteen-year-olds piled into the car and set off for Newcastle. After a long journey and the inevitable delay getting through Ballynahinch, Erin parked up and got out, followed by her four passengers.

“Shall we make ourselves familiar with the venue for tomorrow?” James suggested.

“Good idea,” Clare responded pointedly, still unconvinced that a small seaside town was the location of a major music festival.

“Suit yourself, Clare, but we’re going to catch some rays,” Michelle replied cockily.

“I’ll come with you, Clare,” James said. Clare smiled appreciatively and headed off into the town centre while Erin, Orla and Michele set off towards the beach.

“I don’t see any sign of a music festival,” Clare said to James after walking around for twenty minutes.

“Let’s go to the tourist information centre,” James suggested.

They entered a small shop with numerous displays of cheap souvenirs and several racks full of leaflets that advertised local attractions and proceeded to a small desk staffed by a middle-aged woman with a name badge bearing her name: Diane. 

“Hello, we’re looking for the music festival,” Clare said. 

“What music festival?” Diane asked quizzically.

“It’s called the Newcastle Festival,” James responded.

“Robbie Williams is playing there,” Clare elaborated.

“Ah, that festival!” Diane said, suddenly realising what James and Clare meant. “Of course, my niece is going there too. There is one problem though.”

“What’s that?” Clare asked as her stomach tied itself in knots.

“Well, you’re in the wrong Newcastle. You need to go to Newcastle-upon-Tyne in England,” Diane replied humourlessly.

“Oh fuck,” James sighed.

“If you can get to Belfast Airport you may be able to grab a flight but I’d get a move on if I were you,” Diane said, before turning her attention to the magazine she had been reading.

“Ok, thanks,” Clare said with a nervous stammer. She quickly left the shop, followed by James. “What are we going to do?” Clare cried.

“We’ll just have to explain it to the others and prepare for things to get a bit ugly,” James replied.

“I hate to say it, but you’re right,” Clare muttered. “We know Michelle’s not great at admitting fault.”

James and Clare slowly walked back to the beach with a deep sense of trepidation as they anticipated an ugly altercation. “We’re back,” James said timidly.

“We need to tell you something,” Clare said worriedly.

“Oh my god, don’t tell me the festival’s cancelled!” Erin gasped, “I’ve been waiting for this for ages!”

“I knew it, God’s trying to keep me from Robbie!” Michelle yelled.

“No, it’s not cancelled,” Clare reassured them, then took a breath.

“We just need to go a bit further,” James said.

“Of course, Michelle mixed up Newcastle with Newry!” Orla piped up. “Sure, that’s easily done!”

“Wise up, Orla! Even I’m not that daft!” Michelle snapped.

“Well Newry isn’t too far,” Erin said.

“It’s not in Newry,” James told the girls.

“Yes, it is in Newcastle,” Clare added.

“Just not this one,” James stammered.

“Where is this other Newcastle then?” Michelle demanded.

“In England,” James answered.

“Ok,” Erin said, exhaling dramatically. “So, just to check I’ve understood correctly - we’ve got tickets to a music festival...in England. Which, if memory serves me correctly, is on the other side of that feckin’ sea!” She pointed angrily in the direction of the sea.

“Correct,” James confirmed.

“Well, that’s an easy mistake to make!” Michelle shouted defensively. “I mean, whose bright idea was it to give two places the same name? You’ll be telling me there’s another Sydenham next!”

“There is, it’s in London,” James told Michelle.

“Typical Brits, stealing everything including our names!” Michelle scowled.

“Well, no festival for us then,” Orla mumbled sadly.

“No!” Clare interjected fiercely, “we can’t just give up like that!”

“What do you suggest then, Clare?” Erin asked dismissively. “Grow wings and fly? Catch yourself on!”

“Well not quite,” Clare answered.

“Not quite?” Michelle said quizzically.

“Are you suggesting-” James began.

“Yes, I’m suggesting we fly to Newcastle!” Clare said. 

“We don’t have our passports, Clare,” Orla said, “Uncle Gerry said we wouldn’t need them.”

“Well have we got driving licences?” James asked, “It would be a domestic flight so those would be fine.” The girls all nodded.

“Set sail for Belfast Airport!” Orla said as if she was piloting a ship.

The gang squeezed into the car - with James at the wheel - and set off for the airport.

“James, you drive at a snail’s pace!” Erin moaned in frustration.

“I don’t want to get a speeding ticket, Erin! I don’t want to lose my licence!” James responded irritably.

Eventually, they reached the airport and headed into the terminal building and straight over to a desk. Fortunately, they managed to get a decent last-minute deal on a flight leaving in two hours and so proceeded through security to the departure lounge.

“That fella at security was a ride,” Michelle said smugly. “I wanted to tell him I had a suspicious package. He can strip search me any day.”

“Michelle, you would have gotten arrested,” Erin scoffed. “Personally I’m amazed you managed to not say anything stupid.”

“Christ, Erin, am I really that much of a liability?” Michelle huffed. The other four Derry girls (including the honorary one) remained silent.

“I know this was my suggestion but I can’t believe we’re doing this!” Clare squealed. “I mean, we’re leaving the country! Well, I know that we’re not, technically speaking, but still!”

“Well, we managed to sneak away to Belfast so sneaking across the Irish Sea is surely the next logical step,” James said, trying to be positive.

“Next logical step? What are you smoking, James?” Michelle scoffed.

“Ok, girls, this is our flight now,” Erin announced. They stood up and proceeded to the designated gate.


	4. Chapter 4

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your pilot speaking. We will shortly be arriving at Newcastle International Airport. Current local time is four p.m. but you won’t need to change your watches because we’re in the same timezone as where we started. Unless of course your watch was set incorrectly before the flight. I love making that joke! Please take all your personal belongings with you or else you may find I steal one of them as a birthday present for my wife. We’d like to thank you for flying with Ulster Airways and we wish you a pleasant onward journey.”

“Ulster Airways. Getting you places - the Ulster way!” a prerecorded voice said over the speakers.

“How many times are we gonna have to hear that?” Michelle grumbled.

“I’m disappointed,” Orla said. “Jenny Joyce said she went on a plane once and they played a wee film but we’ve had no film on this flight.”

“Orla, did Jenny Joyce by any chance mention what airline she was flying with or the destination?” Erin asked cynically.

“Aye, she said she was flying to Orlando in Florida with British Airways. In first class too,” Orla replied.

“Well, that explains it then!” Clare hissed.

“Yeah, I think if we fly again it’ll probably be with Ryanair. Mum used them recently and said they were quite cheap but very basic. She reckons that one day they’ll charge you if you don’t check in over the internet before getting to the airport,” James added.

“Paying to check in?” Michelle scoffed incredulously. “What next? Paying for a boarding pass?”

“Ryanair wouldn’t do that, Michelle. No Irish business would practise that kind of extortion!” Erin snorted.

“Not like British Airways with your fancy Concorde!” Michelle scowled.

“I love the sound Concorde makes, it’s cracker!” Orla said happily.

“I’d love to fly to New York on Concorde. That would be so glamorous, I’d feel like Marilyn Monroe,” Erin mused whimsically.

“Would that include riding the President? Christ Erin, you disgust me!” Michelle snarled contemptuously.

The plane touched down and taxied along the runway towards the terminal building before finally coming to a stop. When the seatbelt light turned off, the passengers squeezed along the plane and down the steps onto the runway.

“Watch out, perfidious Albion, we’re Derry girls!” Michelle yelled, attracting a few raised eyebrows.

“Please, Michelle!” Clare begged, “Can we just focus on getting to the festival!”

“Such a craic killer, Clare!” Michelle grumbled.

The group entered the terminal building and headed through the arrivals lounge to the main concourse. “Right,” Erin said, “We need to find out how to get to the festival. James, you do the talking, you’re English.”

They headed to an information desk and James asked the woman for directions to the Newcastle Festival. The woman explained that the festival was taking place on a farm a few miles outside of the city and that they would need to take two buses. James thanked the woman and proceeded towards the exit, with the girls following after.

“Why was she making that funny noise?” Orla asked James.

“It’s her accent. Geordie, they call it,” James answered.

“People here don’t sound like you at all, James,” Erin said quizzically.

“Well, England’s a big place, Erin, and London’s about three hundred miles away,” James explained.

“Three hundred miles!” Erin gasped, “How far is that? Derry to Limerick?”

“More like Derry to Cork, I think,” Clare said.

“I bet Kamal’s glad he doesn’t have to walk that far!” Orla mumbled.

“Is the Geography lesson over now?” Michelle asked sarkily. “I’m dying to see Robbie!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you are all enjoying this fic! 
> 
> @ Sweepo: I hope you like my fictional airline, Ulster Airways! Thank you for your informative comments on my previous chapters :)
> 
> Thank you of course to Thenewwriter as well who is a major contributor of ideas to my fics :)
> 
> And just a quick note: my opinion on Ryanair is that they are a good airline if you're good at travelling light...less so if not.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang reach the campsite and a lot of bickering breaks out.

After stocking up on a few supplies in the city centre, the gang boarded a bus out to a farm a few miles west of the city. 

“Hexham?” Orla said, on noticing a directional sign, “Sounds like a place where witches meet.”

“It does a bit,” James acknowledged, “Come to think of it, so does Coventry.”

“Aye, that’s cracker so it is,” Orla mumbled.

The gang reached the festival site and pitched their tents that big-Jim-from-across-the-road had reluctantly allowed them to borrow on the condition that Clare was placed in charge of them.

“Ah, we’re finally here,” Clare beamed happily.

“It’s quite pretty,” Erin remarked, looking around at the scenery.

“Erin, we’re not here to buzz off hills. We can do that in Derry!” Michelle snarked.

“Erin, can you see that wall in the distance? I know you love a good wall!” Orla said excitedly.

“That’s Hadrian’s Wall, Orla. I think the Romans built it to prevent an invasion from Scotland,” James explained.

“A wall was built to prevent an invasion of England? That’s hilarious!” Michelle scoffed. “Can’t think why anyone would want to invade England!”

“Maybe to get away from Irn Bru and Tunnocks teacakes?” Orla suggested absent-mindedly.

James nodded politely and decided not to mention that Irn Bru and Tunnocks teacakes did not exist in the Roman era, nor that they were widely available in England in the late twentieth century.

“Who’s got the disposable barbecues?” Clare asked.

“Oh my god, I’m so excited to use them!” Michelle squealed excitedly.

“Michelle, do you really think it’s a good idea for you to operate a source of heat? You know, given the incident at Fionnuala’s?” Erin said haughtily. “Catch yourself on!”

“That was only once!” Michelle protested.

“Yes, but that was enough to get us banned!” Clare squeaked! 

“Erin, I think you’d be the best person to man the barbecue,” James said nervously, “Or rather, attend to the barbecue.”

“He’s just trying to get in your knickers, Erin!” Michelle spat. 

Eventually, it was agreed that Erin should be in charge of the barbecue. The gang cooked a basic meal and then took a short stroll around the site.

“Oh my god, there are so many rides here I can’t even shortlist the candidates. There are too many!” Michelle cried excitedly.

“Michelle, rein yourself in!” Erin hissed, “You’ll get a reputation as the Irish nymphomaniac!”

“That’s a reputation I’d be thrilled to have!” Michelle retorted.

“Christ,” Erin, Clare and James muttered in unison while Orla, who was clearly preoccupied with something else, said nothing.

“Are you ok, Orla?” Clare asked.

“Aye, I’m really enjoying all these tents. That one over there is so cracker!” Orla answered gleefully.

“Orla, please don’t go invading people’s tents!” Erin begged, “We really can’t be doing with a repeat of that incident in Killybegs!”

“What incident in Killybegs?” James asked, a puzzled look on his face.

“It was just before you came to Derry,” Clare explained.

“We got banned from the campsite,” Erin expanded.

“Aye, that was a cracker campsite,” Orla mumbled sadly.

“The campsite manager’s son was a massive ride,” Michelle said smugly, “And it was nice not to be the reason we got banned.”

James said nothing and looked skywards, naively hoping that the trip wouldn’t be dominated by constant arguing.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet even more silliness on the wrong side of the Irish Sea...this time with a celebrity cameo!

The next morning, the gang woke up and enjoyed a basic but filling breakfast consisting of pastries from Tesco.

“These wee pastries are so cracker, the texture is so crumbly!” Orla said childishly.

“Orla, mind the crumbs!” Erin shouted. “Christ, Anna has better table manners than you and she’s a four-year-old wee un!”

“Table manners? Erin, we’re on a farm in the countryside, not at the fuckin’ Ritz!” Michelle snapped.

“I’ll clear up,” James said quickly.

“We need to shift ourselves, guys, we can’t miss the Spice Girls!” Clare urged desperately.

The gang headed to a field at the front of which was a stage onto which the five members of the Spice Girls walked to a crowd of adoring fans.

“Look, James, it’s the object of your sordid desires,” Michelle said scornfully, focusing her gaze on Emma Bunton. “Look how completely angelic she appears, completely unaware of this savage fucker who wants to stick his dick in her!”

“Michelle, she’s also English!” James pointed out.

“Aha! He’s not denying it!” Michelle cried dramatically. 

“Oh, leave the wee fella alone!” Erin said forcefully. “Gentlemen prefer blondes, Michelle, everyone knows that!” Erin placed a comforting hand on James’s arm and flashed him a wink in an attempt to emulate Marilyn Monroe but was more reminiscent of a low-budget British film from the 1960s.

“Not in Derry, Erin!” Michelle retorted, “I mean, how many fellas are after me on any given day? No one can resist my brunette ringlets.”

“Michelle, the fellas you knock about with are hardly what anyone would call gentlemen!” Erin cackled contemptuously.

“Except ironically,” Orla added.

“I agree with that, Michelle,” Clare said. “And before you say it, my sexuality does not affect my ability to judge a man’s credentials as a gentleman!”

“Can we be quiet, please?” James pleaded, “Two Become One is up next and that’s my favourite.”

“Course it is, it’s about sex!” Michelle huffed.

The gang stopped arguing and sang along to the tune, Erin strategically looking towards James during the line “Wanna make love to you baby!” To Erin’s annoyance, James was far too busy singing along. It reminded Erin of how much James had enjoyed the Rock the Boat dance at the wedding reception. Well, until the evening culminated in a fatality, but the fun was nice while it lasted.

Once the performance was over, the gang headed out of the field and were suddenly approached by a young boy in a fluorescent tabard and a lanyard. “Hello!” he said brightly.

“Who are you?” Michelle asked sceptically.

“Let James handle this one, Michelle,” Erin interrupted, eliciting a suspicious look from her friends.

“Yeah, who are you?” James asked in a similar tone to Michelle.

“Well,” the boy began, “Geri couldn’t help notice that you were wearing a Union Jack t-shirt and she wants to invite you all backstage!”

“Excuse us one moment,” James instructed. The gang of five walked a short distance so that they were out of earshot of the steward.

“Ok, girls, can I propose that if anyone has a bad feeling about this, one of us shouts ‘Galway’ and we bolt?” Erin suggested. The other four nodded, then turned back to the steward.

“Ok, lead the way, mate!” James said to the steward. Erin smiled furtively at James’s display of confidence.

The gang followed the steward through security to a temporary building that resembled a shipping container, somehow not suspecting anything untoward. The steward knocked on the door and announced himself. “Hi, it’s the girl with the Union Jack t-shirt and her friends!”

“The door opened and on the other side stood none other than Geri Halliwell and Emma Bunton, leaving the five teenagers standing with their mouths agape.

“Thank, darling,” Geri said to the steward, “Come in!”

“Hello, Miss Halliwell, Miss Bunton,” Clare stammered.

“Call us Geri and Emma,” Emma said. “Or Ginger and Baby if you want!”

“It’s nice of you to invite us backstage,” Erin said, feeling the same way as Clare.

“Well, we love meeting our fans!” Geri began, looking at Clare, ”and I immediately noticed your t-shirt.”

“We’re all about girl power, even him,” Michelle said, pointing at James. James nodded, completely agog at the proximity between himself and his celebrity crush.

“So, what are your names?” Geri asked.

“I’m Erin, and this is Michelle, Clare, James and Orla,” Erin answered, “and we’re from Derry in Northern Ireland. Well, James is from London originally.”

“Long story,” James added with a brief smile.

“I don’t think we’ve been there, have we, Geri?” Emma asked, looking at her bandmate.

“No, we haven’t,” Geri answered.

“Well, nowhere encapsulates girl power like Derry!” Erin said enthusiastically.

“Well, we know who to call if we’re ever there!” Emma said brightly.

“Excuse me, Emma,” James stuttered quietly, “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but could I have your autograph?”

“Of course you can, my darling!” Emma replied. She looked at the four girls and asked, “Who’s the lucky girl?”

“Neither of us,” Erin muttered with a tinge of sadness. Luckily, Michelle kept her mouth shut and said nothing to cause embarrassment. This was shaping up to be an interesting trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah...there's some Jerin....I couldn't stop myself!


	7. Chapter 7

That evening, the gang headed to the rave tent after enjoying a basic meal cooked on a disposable barbecue. Given the sheer volume of people in the tent, the gang became separated very quickly. Clare had insisted they all write down the location of their tent on a piece of paper for reference.

Once Erin had had enough, she squeezed through the crowd to the exit and was relieved to breathe fresh air again, but had to make a concerted effort to ignore the suspicious odours in the air. She decided now would be a good time to round up her friends; after all, she was the leader of the pack and it was her responsibility to keep them out of trouble, even if this rarely ended up being the case.

Erin walked around the back of the tent and froze at the sight of James talking to a girl around the same age as them. The girl looked somewhat like Charlene Kavanagh but even prettier, which Erin had not previously considered humanly possible. This trip was certainly proving to be an eye-opening experience in so many respects. But what was a pretty girl doing talking to James, when he wasn’t much to look at himself? Well, he was handsome in his own way, but why was this girl talking to James when there was an abundance of young men to pursue, or as Michelle had put it, “rides for the picking”. But this girl had no right to simply swoop in like that. James had form for being taken in by girls who had the audacity to be complimentary towards him.

Furious though she was, Erin knew she had no right to simply barge in. Last time she had done that, it had taken weeks of grovelling to James for him to forgive her for ruining his one chance to lose his virginity - while he was living in Derry at least. Erin was aware that a more tactful approach was probably sensible.

She edged forward until she was close enough to talk to James. “Hello, James,” she said tentatively.

“Oh, Erin,” James responded when he registered her presence, “I was wondering where you and the others had got to.”

“Are you going to introduce me?” the still-anonymous girl asked James.

Erin’s body tensed up at the thought of a nascent romance brewing between James and this strange girl, even though they had probably only known each other for about an hour at most. She was thrown too by the girl’s accent which she could not easily identify; it sounded nothing like James’s and was not an Irish accent, which only added to the confusion Erin felt.

“Erin, this is Kirsty. Kirsty, this is Erin,” James said.

“Lovely to meet you, Erin,” Kirsty said cheerfully. “James was just telling me how you guys sneaked over here from Northern Ireland. That’s so impressive and hilarious! My friends and I thought we were clever for sneaking on a coach here from Taunton without our parents knowing but I can safely say you have us beat!”

“Well, we couldn’t miss out on seeing Robbie and the Spice Girls! And it’s good to have an adventure!” Erin said awkwardly.

“You know, I’m really surprised that none of you girls have snapped James up because he seems like quite a catch!” Kirsty said with a slight smirk, causing James to blush and Erin’s stomach to churn.

“Sadly the English thing is a turn-off!” James explained. Erin’s blood boiled inside; how dare James think that his nationality was a repellant? To be fair to James, Michelle had given him enough reason to believe that.

“Pity...wouldn’t bother me but then I am English myself!” Kirsty chuckled. Erin’s internal anger intensified. It should have occurred to her that James’s Englishness would not, theoretically at least, be a problem in England. Now she thought about it, England was quite a big place with plenty of girls around James’s age so mathematically, the odds were stacked in his favour. Moreover, she couldn’t believe Kirsty was English; unlike James and English people Erin had seen on television, Kirsty did not pronounce “Ireland” the same way as “island”, which was strangely refreshing.

“You’re English?” Erin said quizzically.

“Yes, from a place called Taunton in Somerset,” Kirsty answered. “It’s mainly famous for Cheddar Gorge, cider and the Glastonbury Festival.

“Taunton? That’s a place? I wasn’t sure what you were saying earlier but that makes sense now,” Erin trembled nervously.

“Sorry, my accent is a bit hard to understand. Some people say I sound like a farmer!” Kirsty laughed.

“It’s grand, I have similar challenges!” Erin responded. “James, have you seen Michelle and the others?”

“No, I haven’t,” James answered.

“What does she look like?” Kirsty asked.

“Curly dark hair, sounds a bit like Erin, looks a bit like me,” James replied.

“Oh, I think I saw a girl matching that description earlier. I’ll show you where I saw her,” Kirsty said.

“James and Erin followed Kirsty to a field to find Michelle lying on the grass, merrily smiling up at the stars.

“Michelle?” Erin gasped, “Are you ok?”

“I’m grand,” Michelle slurred, “I’m a bit tipsy but I just met this fella and he’s a massive ride! He’s just gone but he’ll be back in a minute!”

“Ok,” Erin said, still slightly concerned by Michelle’s inebriated state.

“Kirsty, this is my cousin, Michelle,” James told Kirsty.

Suddenly, a tall, athletic boy with blond hair and blue eyes appeared. “Hi, Michelle,” he said, then froze when he made eye contact with James. “James Maguire? Is that you?” His mouth fell open in shock.

“Gary Dalton, long time no see!” James gasped.

Michelle sat bolt upright, a shocked expression on her face. “You know each other?” she asked incredulously, looking between Gary and James.

“Yes, we were at school together,” Gary answered. “How do you know James?”

“We’re cousins,” James responded, “I moved to Derry when my mum got divorced, remember?”

“Oh, that’s right. Small world, eh?” Gary said. “Nice to catch up, anyway.”

“Nice little reunion,” Kirsty commented.

“Just when I thought this trip couldn’t get weirder,” Erin muttered.


	8. Chapter 8

The second day of the festival, while somewhat less eventful than the first, was still a success. James regaled Gary with stories of his time in Derry while Gary filled James in on the gossip involving their former classmates. Michelle spent as much quality time with Gary as she could, keen to get a holiday romance under her belt. Kirsty and her friends tagged along with the group too and much to Erin’s chagrin, Kirsty’s friends were also very pretty and charming, and all seemed very taken with James.  
Finally, the festival came to an end and it was time to head home. The gang said goodbye to their new friends (and old friend in the case of James and Gary) in Newcastle city centre; Kirsty and her friends boarded the coach back to Taunton, Gary headed to the railway station for the next train back to London while the gang caught the bus back to the airport. Once through security, they each took in turns to visit the shower in the departure lounge, which was a relief after two days of not washing properly.

“I’m so glad we did this,” Clare said happily, “I almost feel like a new person for suggesting it.”

“For once Clare, I’m glad we listened to you,” Michelle said in agreement.

“You’ve never listened to me before!” Clare protested.

“We did that time you advocated skiving off school to see Bill Clinton,” James replied.

“In any case, Clare, thank you for suggesting it,” Erin said quickly in an effort to close the matter.

“And thank you to James for helping us negotiate the language barrier,” Orla said brightly.

“Language barrier?” James said, screwing his face up in confusion.

“Aye, I don’t know how we’d have coped without you,” Orla explained.

“Orla, we’re in England and funnily enough, they speak English here!” Erin huffed.

“Your point being?” Orla asked whimsically.

“I never thought going to England would be such good craic,” Michelle opined, “I can’t believe you’ve never invited us here, James!”

“I assume you wouldn’t want to go given that you constantly mock me for being English!” James said.

“Can’t believe you think I’m so narrow-minded!” Michelle growled. 

“Honestly!” James muttered and rolled his eyes.

The three-tone chime echoed over the loudspeaker announcing the imminent departure of Ulster Airways flight UA666 to Belfast from gate seventeen, to which the gang duly proceeded. After a short time in the air, the plane touched down on Northern Irish soil and the gang headed through the terminal building to find Gerry’s car in the car park.

“You know what girls, I think we’ve gotten away with this,” Erin said.

“We just need to get rid of any evidence we’ve been to England,” James warned.

“It’ll be grand, we’ve not got any,” Michelle said nonchalantly.

“James’s accent is a bit of a giveaway,” Orla argued.

“Orla, I spoke like this before!” James mumbled.

The gang climbed into the car and Erin checked the petrol gauge. When she was confident there was enough fuel to successfully complete the journey to Derry, she started the car, slid it into gear and drove off towards Derry.


	9. Chapter 9

Two days after returning from England, the gang were sitting in front of the television at the Quinn house. Sarah and Mary were both still at work and Joe had taken Anna to a soft play centre for the day.

The front door opened and Gerry walked in. “Hello girls,” he said.

“Hi,” the girls and James replied.

“You’re home early, Daddy,” Erin observed.

“I was on a training course today and it finished early so I managed to beat the rush hour traffic,” Gerry explained.

“Ah I see,” Erin said.

“You know, when you said you were going to Newcastle, you didn’t specify which Newcastle,” Gerry said with a grin.

“Which other Newcastle would it be other than the one in County Down?” Erin asked with a chuckle, trying not to appear as if she’d been rumbled.

“Well there’s one in Australia but getting to Australia and back in three days would be impossible,” Clare added quickly.

“I remember looking through a road atlas and seeing one in central England, near Stoke,” Orla mumbled.

“Stoke-on-Trent?” Michelle gasped.

“Michelle, how come you’ve heard of Stoke?” James asked.

“Robbie’s from there!” Michelle answered.

“Anyway, I found this in my car,” Gerry saud and held up a boarding pass from a flight between Newcastle and Belfast, printed with Erin’s name and date of birth.

“Oh shite,” Erin sighed.

“I can explain,” Michelle interjected. “I got the wrong Newcastle.” The other gang members froze in shock at Michelle owning up for once.

“I suggested we fly to Newcastle,” Clare admitted.

“We know it was wayward but we were so desperate to go,” James said in a pleading voice.

“And airports are so cracker,” Orla added.

“Please don’t tell our mammies!” Erin begged.

Gerry burst out laughing. “Don’t you worry, I won’t say anything. I have to say your initiative is impressive and I figured it would be much more entertaining if I didn’t tell your mother. Just like the time you sneaked away to that concert in Belfast!”

“How did you find that out?” Erin asked.

“I saw you on the TV,” Gerry told them. “Your mothers were discussing how to punish you and prove you went. Luckily they weren’t watching TV at the same time! But don’t worry, it can be our little secret.” Gerry tapped his nose and smiled at the five stunned faces staring back at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's the final chapter! Hope you enjoyed this little story - I'll be updating my long fic very soon, so stay tuned!
> 
> Thanks for reading :)


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